Greatest Hits
by Turtleduckies
Summary: A collection of Love Handel-based fun-size oneshots -- or "ficlets" if you will. Rated T for later stories and slash. Please R&R!
1. Frustrating

**A/N:** Hey all, it's me again! Recently, I've been noticing a dearth in Love Handel fanfiction, e.g., none exists. Therefor, I've decided to remedy this situation by creating this: a collection of drabbles and oneshots based on prompt words I got from the controversial biography of Charles Schultz, Twilight (which surprisingly _didn't_ give me chagrin, Edward, vampire, Adonis, or sparkle as words) and a random word generator. I got a list of about one hundred, then ran a random number generator to pick some. _Why are you doing this, you silly girl_? you may be asking. Well, the episode "Dude We're Getting the Band Back Together" is by far one of my most cherished in the series of Phineas and Ferb, because of the amazing music and note-perfect cheesy late 80's-early 90's fashion metal. Also, Sherman is an adorable chubby librarian and Bobbi is the most obviously-camp-gay character on a children's show since Him.

**AN IMPORTANT NOTE.** I enjoy **slash**. I especially enjoy **slashing these characters.** Therefor, **this lovely little collection will be home to lots of non-explicit slash**. If you don't like that, turn back now, before it's too late! I will, however, provide a warning in my author's notes before the actual story, so be aware.

Now that that's over with, enjoy!  


* * *

**Frustrating**

"Oh my God, will you two just _shut up?_"

He'd been nursing a splitting headache for the better part of the morning, which also happened to be when the bassist and the drummer decided to argue. _Loudly_. From his position on the couch, Danny had been listening to their shouts of "You liar!" and "Nuh-uh!" back and forth for around three hours. He didn't even know exactly _why_ they were fighting, just that he'd reached his breaking point. Taking a deep breath, the guitarist sat up slowly.

"So, _why_ exactly are you guys fighting like a married couple?"

Sherman blushed fiercely and was about to say something when Bobbi butted in.

"_He_ used _my_ shampoo!"

Danny blinked. "Your shampoo. You're screaming at each other _and_ giving me a migraine over _shampoo_?"

The drummer glared at Bobbi. "I did not! He's just looking for an excuse to yell at me! You _always_ do that!"

Groaning, the guitarist stood up with only a few grunts of pain and walked straight into his room. "Jesus Christ..."

It was only after Danny left that the two of them decided the cold shoulder was a much more effective way to annoy one another.


	2. Spin

**A/N:** Another one! This one isn't as good as the others I've written (I've written _a lot_ since the first) but I felt compelled to put it here anyway, as it's probably going to be one of the few that takes place post-reunion. Also, this one doesn't have any slash. I still haven't written one that's slashy, it's really weird...Ah well, please read and review it anyway!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Spin**

It had been so long since he'd felt that rush. Stepping off the stage into their hosts' garage, the drummer-turned-librarian let out an elated sigh. He'd missed this part. No matter how hard he'd tried to deny it over the years, Sherman couldn't help but want to go back to the old days. Before the other two band members joined him, he twirled around in a fit of uncontainable joy.

"Well, looks like _someone_'s having fun."

Bobbi. Of course. The drummer blushed and adjusted his glasses. "So, uh, I've got to get back soon. To the library."

The bassist rolled his eyes. "Hmm, yeah, for the fabled night rush I've heard _so_ much about." He took off his coat, folding it over his arm. "Well, have fun. I'm going back to the salon anyway."

Danny came in, absolutely ecstatic, with a girl at least ten years younger than him on each arm. "Man, that was _awesome_!" Noticing his bandmates preparing to leave, he paused. "Where're you guys going?"

"Back to work. Those gals're _useless_ without me," Bobbi said, stopping to fix his hair.

Sherman smiled. "Yeah, me too...Well, see you later, Danny."

"No, no, no, you're coming with me. There's _always_ been an afterparty! _Always!_"

Though he may have appeared it, he wasn't all that reluctant to go with their guitarist. He'd missed all of this. With one last burst of unpredictable adrenaline, Sherman followed his friend out of the garage to who knew where.


	3. Posing

**A/N:** Once again, I've got another fun-size oneshot for you! This one is basically humour, through and through; as well, I actually _liked _this one as I was writing it. I'd really appreciate it if you reviewed after reading, because that helps me get a sense of what you guys think I should improve on. But for now, here's the next ficlet!

* * *

**Posing**

"How long are we going to have to stay like this?" Sherman whined, about to move out of position to rub his sore muscles. Standing still was much harder than he would have thought.

Bobbi merely scoffed and turned his head just enough so that he could see the drummer without ruining the shot. "Coming from someone who spends so much time doing nothing but sitting around and eating, I think this would be called 'ironic'." He smirked and returned to being devilishly handsome for the camera.

As usual, Danny was in the middle of the two -- literally and argument-wise. "Just...look pretty for the camera, okay? The photo shoot's almost over, you can hang in there."

"But my arm's _cramping_! And I think my foot's asleep!"

"For Christ's sake, just _shut up_ and **smile!**" The bassist's own smile was still intact, but there was obvious anger in his eyes. "You're going to ruin this for the rest of us!"

"No one said I'd have to just stand here for like, 10 hours!:

While the two of them continued bickering, Danny was forced to move. If he didn't act fast, the photographer would be in the next city in no time.


	4. Drag

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay everyone! I've been parched for ideas for these guys recently, mainly because I've been thinking of my new OTP: Vanessa/Karl. Seriously guys, it's great. This one's inspired by a bunch of 1sentences I've been working on, with prompts from my girlfriend. And I decided this prompt was far too swell to use for just the one sentence. Time for some slashyness and general hilarity -- at least, I hope there'll be hilarity.

* * *

**Drag**

"I look like a teenage girl! Why don't you just give me a skirt to put over these tights, put my hair in a ponytail and call me Sherry, huh?"

Sherman was standing backstage, having changed into the outfit the bassist had provided him only minutes before their first big show. Arms spread wide, forhead crinkled in frustration, he had been refusing to go onstage for a while now. Looking over his shoulder, Danny sighed. Bobbi just _had_ to start a fight right before they were supposed to play for a packed theatre.

Bobbi smirked a bit. "Well, you're definitely _built_ like one." A tilt of the head to the side. "Actually, you wouldn't even need the skirt to pass for a girl. Huh." Without another word, he turned to face the anxious guitarist. "Just stall or something. I can handle this."

"Bobbi...," he started, before seeing the devious look on his friend's face. "Okay, fine. Just...be quick!"

The bassist crossed over to Sherman, grabbing ahold of his arms and pushing him against a nearby stack of crates. "You're going on stage in those clothes or I'm going to take them back _personally_. And I'm pretty sure which one you'd prefer."

Summoning up all his stubborness and determination, the drummer looked his bandmate straight in the eyes. "Go ahead. I'm not wearing _this_ out _there_."

Sherman felt a lot better about the stupid outfit he had to wear when Bobbi opened his mouth, closed it quietly, and stormed on stage red in the face and furious. His head held high, the drummer followed him out with the bass Bobbi had forgotten to bring on with him.


	5. Lie

**A/N: **OH LOOK WHAT'S THIS? ANOTHER UPDATE? My, my writer's block has just _faded_ away after all this time! Well, it's more Love Handel for all you people out there to enjoy. This one is my own interpretation of the prompt, "Lie". And it's a teensy bit **slashy**. But only a teensy bit.

Anyway, read it, review it, enjoy it!

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**Lie**

Being stuck in bed was boring; Bobbi had realized this around the time he hadn't gotten up for two days straight. Forced by his strange, obviously rare disease – also known as the stomach flu – to stay in bed, he was sure his death was imminent. He'd be mourned by all the world, the bright star whose life was cut tragically short.

"You up?"

It was Sherman. He had managed to push open the door with his hip; his hands were full, carrying a tray of food for the bassist. He smiled a bit. "I brought you some soup. My mom used to make it for me whenever I got the flu." Still managing to keep the food from spilling, he made his way into the room, letting the door fall closed behind him.

Bobbi merely groaned, turning onto his side away from the drummer. "Ugh, it's probably full of fat and disgusting…stuff. No thanks!"

A sigh. "It's homemade, okay? It's good for you! I spent all this morning making it. I had to _call_ my _mom_ for the recipe and have her talk me through it." He filled the spoon with some of the broth, holding it out towards his bandmate. "Now eat it."

"God, I can feed myself, okay?" Shakily, he took the spoon from Sherman's hands. Sipping it carefully, he lay back down on the bed when he'd finished the first little taste. "That's…that's not bad, actually. Your mom's a good cook."

Sherman frowned slightly. "Well, _I_ made it. She just helped." There was a pause. "Finish it all. And you better not barf that back up, because then it'll be a bunch of food wasted. There are kids starving in like, Africa that would kill for this stuff." He stood back up, heading towards the door.

Bobbi cleared his throat. "Uh…thanks, Sherman. I…I appreciate it."

When he turned around, it was with a smile. "No problem. I'm sure you'd do the same for me."

He didn't get the chance to hear Bobbi's chuckling, because he'd already left the room and closed the door shut behind him.


	6. Odd

**A/N: **The chapters just keep coming. I've been having just these bursts of inspiration lately! SO YEAH! More Love Handel for you, and this one has some gay in it! Well, someone telling someone else they're gay. You know the one. Also, heads up: this one takes place in the band's high school days, where I imagine Bobbi was a snobby drama club kid and Danny was a stoned-out-of-his-mind guitarist. Sadly, they do not fight crime. But they do form a band and pick on Sherman! That's how they meet and become buddies in my personal fanon: the shared love of making fun of dorky little Swampy~ But not in this story. No, this one's just Danny and Bobbi doing their thing. SO YEAH WHATEVS.

Enjoy it, read it, review it. You know the drill.

* * *

**Odd  
**

This was going to be difficult. For the past five minutes, Bobbi had been preparing himself. Danny, meanwhile, was busy fiddling around with his guitar and ignoring everything else in the world, especially the boy pacing the floor beside him. The constant tapping of his shoes and his quiet whines of worry made a pretty good beat to practice with.

Finally, he stopped, looking straight at the guitarist. "Danny, I want to talk to you about something..."

"Look, if it's about your cat, I didn't do it! It was Glen."

"My...? Oh my God, it was...!" He took a deep breath. "That's not what I wanted to talk about -- but we _will_ be talking about it later!"

Very slowly, he sat down beside his newest friend. Steeling himself, he ran over what he'd been playing over in his head for the past few days. "Danny, I...you know I'm different from the other guys."

Danny quirked an eyebrow. "Uh, duh. Everyone knows that." Placing the guitar down beside him, he gave Bobbi a look. "Is this some sort of talk about how you're--"

"Focus, Danny! I'm trying to tell you something!" There was a pause. "Well, I'm different in a lot of ways..."

The guitarist held up a hand and put up a finger as he made each point. "You wear like ten tons of makeup, you're in the drama club, you know everything about fashion, you spend three hours each morning on your hair--"

"That's not important!" Bobbi rubbed his temples, frustrated at the lack of attention his friend was showing him. "It's more than that! I...I've always felt unlike other guys. I mean, this may be a shock to you, but I'm..." Another deep breath. "I'm not like other men. I, well, I like other men."

"...Okay."

"I'm gay, Danny. I know it's surprising but --"

Looking at Danny again, he bristled. He was LAUGHING. How could he be so callous as to start laughing during his well thought out explanantion of his orientation? It was supposed to be a heartfelt talk! He glared at the guitarist. "What's so funny?"

"Dude, the entire _school_ knows you're gay! We've all known for...God, I dunno, ever since you stepped onto school grounds!" Danny wiped a tear from his eye. "Jesus Christ, you didn't think this was going to be...like, a big revelation for me did you? Bobbi, don't go...Come on...Wait, what are you doing? Hey, don't do that!"

Later that day, the janitor was quite perplexed when he found a pile of wood and metal strings that looked like it had once been an acoustic guitar in the middle of the hall.


	7. Interest

**A/N:** One more chapter for you all...I just can't resist! Now, this one's a bit different than the others: It's a dialogue fic, so it's only talking. Well, and awkward pauses. This one's Danny/Sherman, too, which I really, really like -- but don't expect me to give you any hints as to who's who. If it's confusing, sorry kiddos. Also, there is some **slashyness,** based entirely on my interpretation of the word "interest". And you can guess where that led.

SO: Read it, review it, enjoy it, if you please!  


* * *

**Interest**

"So, uh, Bobbi's gay, huh."

Pause.

"Yup."

Another pause.

"You ever…? I mean, y'know…"

"_What_?"

"Have you…"

"Oh, you mean…?"

"Well…yeah."

Awkward pause.

"You mean you have?"

"No, no, no way!"

"Oh, sorry, I thought you—"

"No, I haven't!" Pause. "Have you?"

"Well, once – but it wasn't anything, y'know—"

"Serious?"

"Yeah. It was um, that one time when we were in—"

"Oh, oh, okay. Wait, you mean that was _you_ with him?"

"Y-yeah, it was. I was just, well, kinda curious…"

Another awkward pause.

"Oh. Okay."

"Why'd you ask, anyway?"

"Uh, um, I was just – I mean, we, uh…"

Pause again.

"Are you trying to—"

"NO! No, I'm not – well, maybe, I mean, I've never—"

"So you want to—"

"I wasn't saying that!"

Awkward pause again.

"You don't want—"

"NO."

"Oh, okay."

"I mean, unless you want to…"

More pausing awkwardly.

"Um, well, sure, I guess…"

"W-what? You want to—"

"If you still do, I'm okay with—"

"Uh, alright then. So, when…when should we…?"

"Right now? I mean, because Bobbi's out and stuff, we'd be—"

"Okay, right. So we should—"

"Yes."

"Right."


	8. Girlfriend

**A/N: **Hey guys, look what this is! It's a ficlet inspired not by a prompt, no...It's inspired by a song! But I'm not going to tell you which song it is, it's up to _you_ to find out. It should be pretty simple if you know your slightly homoerotic 80's songs well enough, not to mention that I put a _direct_ reference to it in the story. GUESS WHERE IT IS. Go on, just guess! And the song is in no way related to the title of this ficlet.

But hey, enjoy this **slashy** Love Handel drabble thing and please, review it! I want to know what you people think!  


* * *

**Girlfriend**

"Hey, what's wrong, Sherman?"

Danny sat down on the couch beside the drummer, patting him on the shoulder. Sherman's eyebrows were knitted together in frustration, his arms crossed across his chest. He was obviously upset by something.

"It's Bobbi's new 'girlfriend,'" he muttered, airquoting as he let his head flop back on the sofa.

"What, Jessie? She's not _that_ bad, I mean, she's basically glued to him all the time, but other than that--"

"Bobbi doesn't even _like_ girls! Why should _he _get such a hot chick?"

With a groan, Sherman twisted around in his seat to peer over the back of the couch towards the "happy couple". Jessie had her arms firmly around the bassist's waist, while Bobbi was completely ignoring the girl so he could paint his nails. Each chance she got, his newest fake girlfriend would stare lovingly into his eyes -- or whatever part of him she could see. Occasionally, she'd whisper what were most likely sweet nothings in Bobbi's ear which he brushed off as if they were nothing. Sherman was livid, turning back around with a huff.

"God, I totally _want_ her. I mean, how is it fair that she gets to make out with Bobbi and not me?"

There was a long silence during which Danny tried _very_ hard to stifle his snickering. When he'd finally calmed down and ended up face to face with the drummer's glare, he sighed and wiped a tear from his eye. "Y'know, the way you said that, it sounds like _you_ want to be the one making out with _Bobbi_."

Sherman was appalled, judging by his expression of disgust. "Ew, no way! That's gross! I want _Jessie_, not _him_!" He looked a bit more upset as he noticed Danny's very "oh come on" expression. "Well it's _true_! I'm just jealous of him! I mean, the way she looks at him...it just makes me so mad."

"Uh huh. When you're done being in denial, come get me."

"I DON'T LIKE BOBBI!"

"Keep telling yourself that, kid."

"I just wanna bone his girlfriend!"

"Yup, I believe you..."

"SHUT UP DANNY!"

It was the next day, when their manager found Bobbi and Sherman snuggled up together on the couch, that Jessie was fired for not properly doing her job as Bobbi's fake girlfriend.


	9. Chord

**A/N: **So sorry for the absence, dear readers. I've been hard at work preparing my NaNoWriMo novel for November that I've been quite uninspired to write this. However, I've just finished watching "Dude, We're Getting The Band Back Together" for the millionth time, SO I AM READY TO WRITE THIS SUCKER. Prepare for some awesome Love Handel fanfic, everybody!

Notice: I also tried my hardest not to make any references to RENT, or, more specifically, Musetta's Waltz. SO BE PROUD OF ME, DAMMIT.

* * *

**Chord**

Danny groaned, bashing his head back against the chair in frustration. He'd been picking away at his guitar for the past few hours, trying to form something vaguely resembling a rock ballad. As all budding fashion metal geniuses in the 1980's knew, that one special, "heartfelt" song could send you rocketing to stardom.

And Danny was stuck.

"Hey, Bobbi, what's a rhyme for 'above?'"

The bassist gave him one of _those_ looks. "Hmm, well, let's see, words that end in 'ove' that would fit into a _ballad_, well that's hard...How about _love_, genius?"

Another groan, this time paired with a deep frown that would later lead to his forehead being permanently creased. "Shut up, alright? I didn't get much sleep last night, my mind's not working as well as it normally does!"

"Oh, I wonder _why_ you didn't sleep...by the way, next time you're having marathon sex with your groupies, could you at least _try_ and keep it down? Other people need to rest up too!"

Sherman stumbled, having just woken up. "Morning, guys...ugh, what time is it?"

"It's 2 in the afternoon. You're disgusting, go take a shower." Bobbi quickly returned to painting his nails.

After a few more minutes of fiddling around with music and lyrics, Danny finally gave up. It might have been because he just wasn't struck by any inspiration at the moment, but it also might have been because Bobbi and Sherman had started fighting again. With a sigh, he grabbed his jacket and left the apartment.


	10. Flamboyant

**A/N: **Ahh, another song-inspired ficlet. Go listen to some Pet Shop Boys, guys. They keep reminding me of Love Handel, but Bobbi especially. I mean, the song that inspired me here, well... If I didn't like "Wanna Do Your Makeup" as his theme song so much, this would be what I'd think of first as his song. But whatever. HERE IS ZE FIC, MES AMIS.

* * *

**Flamboyant**

"Why do you have to be so... so..._ gay _all the time?"

Sherman was glaring across the room at the bassist, who happened to be in the middle of putting on another coat of lipgloss before they went for another interview. He looked back over his shoulder, rolling his eyes at him.

"And what makes you say that?"

"You're putting on _lipstick!_"

An annoyed sigh. "It's _lipgloss, _duh. Christ, Swampy, you need to calm down. I mean, is this because of last night? I thought we already discussed this, you're cute and all, but--"

"This is **_not_** because of **_that_**!"

"Really, because you seemed pretty upset--"

"JUST SHUT UP!"

The drummer clenched and unclenched his fists as he crossed over to stand straight in front of Bobbi, who happened to _still_ be taller, even after Sherman had gone through his growth spurt in senior year of high school. Very slowly, he opened his mouth to continue shouting at the flamboyant bassist.

He was stopped with a _very_ forceful kiss.


	11. Big In Japan

**A/N: **HEY LOYAL READERS! I know it's been _months_ since I've updated, but I've been leading a busy school life. Also, I hadn't watched the Love Handel episode in forever. I watched it _again_, recently, so that helped me write _this_ little beauty.

The idea suddenly struck me that Love Handel would be like the band Cheap Trick -- forever popular in Japan. _This_ ficlet, like the title suggests, deals with them being big in Japan, albeit in their heyday, and not post-reunion. Also, my girlfriend did some research on doujinshis and the history of yaoi and well...this is what came of it. BE PREPARED FOR **SLASHINESS**, dear readers, and enjoy! Reviews, as always, are highly appreciated!

* * *

"What the hell is this? No, what the _hell_ is this?"

Their first two days in Japan had gone over quite well -- they'd played a concert, gotten with some Japanese groupies, and had relaxed with a day of exploring Tokyo—but now, as Swampy opened up the newest addition to his comic book collection ("They call it manga or somethin' over here, I can't really remember—") he realized he probably should have learned to read Japanese. Also, much more importantly, that he should have realized that it was two _guys _making out on the cover, not two girls like he'd hoped.

Even more importantly, that those two guys were himself, and Danny.

It took a few minutes for them to realize exactly what they were looking at, at which point Bobbi snatched the booklet out of the drummer's hands. He flipped through it, finally tossing it back to Swampy with a loud harumph. "Why is it _Danny_ and you? That doesn't even make any _sense_—"

"Wait, _that's_ _**me**_?" Danny said, straightening up and glancing at the comic. "But that doesn't even _look_ like me!"

Swampy glared down at the thing in his hands, slowly flicking through the pages. "I'm not _that_ short! And my hair's not like that—I look like a _girl!"_

The bassist snorted and sat down on the drummer's other side. "It's not that far of a stretch, actually," he said, before getting that huffy look on his face again. "Why aren't_ I_ in there? Poster sales _proved_ that _I'm_ the fan favorite!"

"Not from the looks of _this_ thing—wait." Danny grabbed the manga again, looking at it closely. "Wait, are we _making out_?"

Swampy tugged it back, doing the same thing the guitarist had done. "N-No, we're not making out, we're just—"

"Look at the cover, loverboys," Bobbi scoffed. "Oh, and I'm pretty sure you're doing _more_ than making out. Check out the next page."

They did. Danny's eyebrows rocketed up his forehead, while Swampy tried to form a response. There it was, in black and white: Swampy, his apparently long and flowing hair strewn all around him with an almost _pained _expression on his face, and_ Danny_, smirking down at him and saying something that they were both _very_ glad they didn't understand.

"That is—I—_why do I look like a __**girl**_?"

"Eh, well, at least I'm on top. That means _I'm_ not gay, right Bobbi?"

He rolled his eyes. "I _still _say it should be _me_, not _you_. My looks lend themselves to the art style." Bobbi stood up and headed towards the door, leaving the other two with their newly purchased Love Handel yaoi doujinshi. "Well, I'm going out. Don't do anything _I'd_ do. I'll be back around supper." He closed the door behind him.

There was silence, and then, Sherman got up as well: "This never happened. Agreed?"

"Agreed."


	12. Fangirls

**A/N: **OH LOOK MORE STORIES. Jeez, I am _so slow_. So sorry. I get sidetracked, is all.

GUESS WHAT GUESS WHAT GUESS _WHAAAAT_. This ficlet has a slight case of the **_slashy_**. Also, it involves teenage fangirls, because I always think of Love Handel as some sort of weird combination of being a hair metal band and having a giant female fanbase, with lots of preteen girls who have posters of Swampy in their room :'D SO Y'KNOW! Read and review, please!

* * *

**Fangirls**

Bobbi was _wrong_ about being the fan favorite; that dubious honor went to _Swampy_. Dubious because, as Manager had found out, the majority of the posters that were sold were a) of Swampy, and b) sold to teenage girls.

"This _sucks_." He flopped down on the couch, glaring over at his bandmates. "All _my_ groupies are like, _thirteen!_"

On his right, Danny was busying himself with flicking tiny balls of paper at the back of Manager's head. "It's 'cause you're nonthreatening. You're so _pure_. You're like goddamn Corey Feldman."

"I am _not!_"

"No, Danny, he's right. He's _not_ like Corey Feldman," said Bobbi, who knew what he was talking about (Manager had managed to keep the fact that the two of them had been "trysting" on and off for a few weeks hidden from the tabloids for _once_.) "He's more like his fangirls. Y'know, curveless and short."

An empty beer bottle went flying from Swampy's hand, nearly colliding with the back of Bobbi's head. Instead, it hit the wall directly beside him with a loud clatter. The guitarist laughed, shouting a quick "nice shot!" to him before returning to annoying Manager.

"You guys are _assholes!_" The drummer turned to Bobbi, a pleading look on his face. "Bobbi, c'mon, you're not _using_ your groupies, can't I just have them?"

"Nah. Me and Danny had this agreement in high school that he gets my share. Sorry, hun." With a smirk, he threw an arm around the kid's shoulders. "You can always have _me_, though--"

But by that point, Swampy was already in his room. The door locked with that oh-so-familiar "clunk."


	13. Hiding

**A/N:** Well hello, fans! It's been...what? 4 months at _least_ since I last updated? Damn. That's not fair at all. Well, here, have a Danny-centric ficlet for once! I really love the guy, despite not giving him much attention.

READ. REVIEW. Please and thank you!

_

* * *

Shut up shut up shut up._

He had already retreated into his room by the time their fighting had devolved into a passionate make-out session, but that didn't mean that Danny couldn't _hear_ them through the door. Bobbi's over-exaggerated moans weren't helping the awkward feeling of being trapped in his own apartment, either. So there he was, sitting on his bed – which _was_, in fact, also _Bobbi_'s bed, due to a shortage of money and space – with only his guitar for company.

_It's not __**that**__ bad, I guess_.

He strummed aimlessly for a while, just trying to take his mind off of the other two and their antics. If it didn't happen so often, Danny wouldn't mind so much. It was just the fact that he was constantly having to relinquish control and mastery of _his_ apartment to the two of them and their _gayness_.

The guitarist banged his fist against the thin wall separating the living room and the bedroom. "Could you guys like, _tone it down_, maybe? I'm tryin' to _practice_ in here!"

Just barely making out the reply of "go fuck yourself," Danny rolled his eyes and went back to playing. They had a gig in a few days, so he had to be in top form. The three of them _desperately _needed the cash—the landlord had been hitting them up for the past week or so, only _barely_ satisfied by Danny's constant "don't worry, we'll have it by the end of the month."

He checked the calendar: May 27th. _Well, damn._ He sighed angrily. _Just keep practicing—they'll stop __**eventually**_.


	14. Nostalgia

**A/N:** HOLY CRAP. This place needs more Love Handel, y'all. Also, more post-reunion!Love Handel. This is _mainly _being written for a contest on dA, so it'll be cross-posted there. The theme, as posited by Surfer-Draik (dudes, go check out her stuff, it's _awesome_), is **Nostalgia**. Also, this is like, WAY longer than the other stories here. SO HOLD ON TIGHT.

PREPARE FOR **SLASHINESS**, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. Also, I'd appreciate reviews!_

* * *

_

**Nostalgia**

Usually, when the three of them gathered together in the backroom of Danny's music shop, it was to smoke pot, trade stories, and reminisce. They all thought this was great, and were especially enthused when it was decided they'd do it again.

However, _Danny_ was usually the one to invite them there, not Bobbi. But for some reason, the hairdresser had called an _urgent _meeting for the three of them, and had decided that it would be held in the dimly-lit storage room. Sherman, now practically _living_ in the former bassist's condo (it wasn't official _yet_), made his way to the shop after his shift at the library to find a TV set up amongst the boxes of magazines and sheet music.

"Wh-what's the TV for?" he asked, sitting down on an amp. Once Danny shooed him off of it - "That thing's worth more than your _apartment_, dude!" - he sat down on the floor. The linoleum was hard and uncomfortable, but it would have to do.

"It," Bobbi said, making a grand gesture with the hand that _wasn't _behind his back, "is for _this_." He pulled out a fairly unassuming video tape in a plain white box. The only thing that was notable was the writing along the sides: "MTV Love Handel Interview #11."

"Oh, my God. Th-that's not-" The librarian adjusted his glasses to get a better look.

Sliding it out of the case, he grinned deviously. "Oh, it _is_. The _banned _interview." The hairdresser slipped it into the VCR without a second thought.

"Uh, it's not plugged in yet." Danny stood now, having finished rolling himself a joint. He left the spliff on a nearby box and moved around the back of the stand, fiddling with the wires until he'd gotten it all set up. Bobbi took a seat beside the drummer, still beaming.

"I _thought_ we agreed that this was, um, f-for _our eyes only?" _Obviously embarrassed by the fact he'd have to watch _that_ tape with Danny there, Sherman toyed with the end of his tie.

"Well, it _is. _Considering _Danny _was also involved, it would only be _fair_ if his eyes counted as _well."_ His smile was becoming more and more predatory, like that of a cat after a canary. "C'mon, Swampy. It'll be a _blast_."

Stepping out from behind the set, the guitarist sat down beside his bandmates. "Okay, we should be good! So, what're we watching, anyway?"

His answer came about 5 minutes into the video.

Dumbstruck, he glanced over at Bobbi, who was sighing gently to himself as he pawed at the librarian's thigh- not unlike his twenty-years-younger self in the video. Sherman looked just as uptight and upset as he did when he was a scrawny strawberry blonde trying to give a good interview. Lighting his blunt, the shop's owner hoped to be just as trashed as his past self was if there was _any _hope he'd get through it.

"I thought Manager had these tapes destroyed," he mumbled after exhaling.

"He _did_, but they missed one." It was Sherman who spoke this time, a little bashful. "Bobbi bought it off the guy who'd stolen it from

The scene that played out on the TV was fairly formulaic, as far as their interviews went: Danny spent a few moments hitting on the VJ before she asked her first question, directed at Swampy. The drummer, grinning nervously at her, tried to ignore the fingers resting on his knee as he answered. More questions were asked, all very routine, before the VJ noticed the hand squeezing Swampy's leg- it served as the perfect lead in to her _next_ set of inquiries, regarding Bobbi's sexuality and his relationship with the scrawny kid. The guitarist deflected the question with the finesse of an expert. However, the interview took a turn for the worst once the _very _coked-up Bobbi kissed the drummer.

It all went down a very predictable hill from there.

"_Shit_, I-I thought I said no more... o-of _this_ in my store!" He groaned, taking another puff off the spliff. "_Seriously_, guys, y-you couldn't just keep this to _yourself?_"

Bobbi looked up from kissing the librarian's neck, smirking at him. "_Killjoy_. I thought _you_ were always the nostalgic one."

Slowly mellowing out, Danny realized that he couldn't really fight it. "Yeah, I guess. Whatever." He leaned back and laughed. "God, you two _never _change."


End file.
